PrintNo, certainly not everything was better back then. And I’m going back some 50-odd years. And yes, some things are better today. But it was a time of simple, perhaps more altruistic values. The real interest in the horse as an individual, the history of the sport and a real study of the sport as an art.
Bert de Nemethy was not only a horseman of the highest class, but also a gentleman of the highest class. Those were the days when a social order was in place.
After Bert came on board with the U.S. Equestrian Team in 1955, he was given carte blanche by Whitney Stone, the USET president, and the officers to run the show. Bert ran the show with a velvet glove hiding an iron fist.
He’d been on the Russian Front during World War II as part of the Hungarian cavalry, and Bert could be one tough customer beneath a veneer of gentlemanly customs. It was a mix our country needed in order to pull ourselves together internationally. Tough love.
I would say for the first six years (1955-1960) Bert was able to not only run a very tight ship but also a relatively small one as well. And Bert was a superb, superb organizer. As far as the bookkeeping, Bert did everything himself. He’d be up night after night with his paperwork. He didn’t have a secretary in the early days. His operation ran like a well-oiled machine.
I came on board in 1957 at the outset of Bert’s first full quadrennium. Yes, he’d taken the group to the 1955 Pan American Games in Mexico City and to the 1956 Olympic Games in Stockholm, Sweden, as well as the fall indoor circuit. But, in fact, he was just getting started and getting his feet wet. I would say, to be perfectly fair, Bert was really able to get his teeth into the program after Stockholm.
I was privileged to have been a part of Bert’s first “Band of Boys.” There were no girls on that first team during the late 1950s; the girls came into play during the early 1960s.
So there was Bert, his “boys” (Bill Steinkraus, Frank Chapot, Hugh Wiley and myself), Bob Freels (stable manager) and a groom for each rider. You can see how tight it was and how easy to control.
I’d say that Bill Steinkraus, the captain of the team, and Bob Freels had great input with Bert. Both Billy and Bob were fabulous, old school, American horsemen in their own right.
Bert didn’t have a permanent base during those early years. Gladstone (N.J.) came into being in the early 1960s after the Rome Olympic Games. We were a little like gypsies and moved from base to base. For instance, during the spring of 1958 we based at Harmon Field, Tryon, N.C. (January, February and March), Alvin Untermeyer’s estate in Greenwich, Conn. (April), and Aachen, Germany (May and June). All of these bases, however, housed excellent stabling, riding areas, and good practice fences to jump.
Not only was our staff made up of very seasoned, experienced grooms, but they were also our closest friends and allies. Under Bob Freels’ management those horses shone. They were fed properly, clipped properly, trimmed properly, and groomed properly every day of their lives. Their manes were pulled to the correct length, just long enough to be prop-erly braided for every big class. Even their tails were braided. But, then, of course, in those days everyone, including the riders, could braid a horse’s mane and tail.
Bert de Nemethy was not only a horseman of the highest class, but also a gentleman of the highest class. Those were the days when a social order was in place.
After Bert came on board with the U.S. Equestrian Team in 1955, he was given carte blanche by Whitney Stone, the USET president, and the officers to run the show. Bert ran the show with a velvet glove hiding an iron fist.
He’d been on the Russian Front during World War II as part of the Hungarian cavalry, and Bert could be one tough customer beneath a veneer of gentlemanly customs. It was a mix our country needed in order to pull ourselves together internationally. Tough love.
I would say for the first six years (1955-1960) Bert was able to not only run a very tight ship but also a relatively small one as well. And Bert was a superb, superb organizer. As far as the bookkeeping, Bert did everything himself. He’d be up night after night with his paperwork. He didn’t have a secretary in the early days. His operation ran like a well-oiled machine.
I came on board in 1957 at the outset of Bert’s first full quadrennium. Yes, he’d taken the group to the 1955 Pan American Games in Mexico City and to the 1956 Olympic Games in Stockholm, Sweden, as well as the fall indoor circuit. But, in fact, he was just getting started and getting his feet wet. I would say, to be perfectly fair, Bert was really able to get his teeth into the program after Stockholm.
I was privileged to have been a part of Bert’s first “Band of Boys.” There were no girls on that first team during the late 1950s; the girls came into play during the early 1960s.
So there was Bert, his “boys” (Bill Steinkraus, Frank Chapot, Hugh Wiley and myself), Bob Freels (stable manager) and a groom for each rider. You can see how tight it was and how easy to control.
I’d say that Bill Steinkraus, the captain of the team, and Bob Freels had great input with Bert. Both Billy and Bob were fabulous, old school, American horsemen in their own right.
Bert didn’t have a permanent base during those early years. Gladstone (N.J.) came into being in the early 1960s after the Rome Olympic Games. We were a little like gypsies and moved from base to base. For instance, during the spring of 1958 we based at Harmon Field, Tryon, N.C. (January, February and March), Alvin Untermeyer’s estate in Greenwich, Conn. (April), and Aachen, Germany (May and June). All of these bases, however, housed excellent stabling, riding areas, and good practice fences to jump.
Not only was our staff made up of very seasoned, experienced grooms, but they were also our closest friends and allies. Under Bob Freels’ management those horses shone. They were fed properly, clipped properly, trimmed properly, and groomed properly every day of their lives. Their manes were pulled to the correct length, just long enough to be prop-erly braided for every big class. Even their tails were braided. But, then, of course, in those days everyone, including the riders, could braid a horse’s mane and tail.
